


Art of War

by phandomoftheowl, Sairandhri



Category: Mahabharata - Vyasa, महाभारत | Mahabharat (TV 2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1770526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phandomoftheowl/pseuds/phandomoftheowl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sairandhri/pseuds/Sairandhri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that War makes monsters of men, but they forget the other ugly things it leaves behind. Lives fraying apart need efforts to be put back together, and it’s harder when it is riddled with bullet holes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art of War

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be fluff and happiness, but then this happened.

“Karna!” Draupadi exclaimed as she saw his knuckles slam into the wall beside their bed.

He turned to the door, fists clenched in rage and mouth twisted in disgust.

“You shouldn’t have stopped me! I could have taken them,” he said as Draupadi stepped around the heaped mattress. She’d run inside after him before he could lock himself to calm down. Karna wasn’t one for violent expressions of anger, but today had been a very taxing day. They had lost their lead and the mission was not going according to plan. And then, the roadside creeps had happened. 

“You were one, and they were seven. Besides, you can’t afford to attract attention. Not now. The mission--”

“Screw the mission, Draupadi, they were --” He whipped around, all tightly coiled fury and she moved back, not because she was afraid of him, but because his hair was long and she hated being smacked in the face with it. 

“I know what they were doing, and _you_ know I could have taken care of myself perfectly fine.”

He grimaced, anger abating momentarily. “That’s not the point.”

“Bullshit.” She wasn’t glaring at him, but the disappointment in her tone was enough to make him sheepish. The fight went out of him with just one look from her and he sunk to the floor. 

“Sometimes I wonder if it was a mistake,” he said, shoulders slumped and eyes haunted. “Or if any of this is even worth it.” He didn’t have to spell it out for her to understand. 

Draupadi sat down beside him, their shoulders barely a hair's breadth apart. He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, trying to keep breathing steadily. In and out, one, two, three, four. He remembered the lessons, he remembered the triggers. Nothing seemed to be helping. _Fuck._ He rocked sideways, taking momentary comfort in the knowledge that Draupadi was there if he needed her, and flinched away from her warmth. 

Her voice was calm and soothing when she spoke. “You know, when you first walked into the Director’s office and he told me you were the new recruit?”

Karna swallowed past the ball of anxiety in his throat. “And you looked at me like I was the gum on the bottom of your shoe?” His voice sounded hoarse and unused. 

Draupadi laughed. “Well. I tried to make it not that obvious.” 

“You didn’t really succeed.”

Draupadi gently took his hand from his face and wove fingers together. The panicky clawing rose again, irrationally, but he clamped down on it. Tried to. She seemed to understand his discomfort with the touch and let him go. _She’s amazing_ , he thought, _and I don’t deserve her_. 

“But you quickly changed my perception. You were bright and hardworking,” she said softly.

Karna’s affected chuckle was bitter . He didn’t know how to tell her it was her fire that lit his ashes. Without her, he was a ship lost at sea searching for a lighthouse. His therapist told him it wasn’t healthy to rely so much on a single source to ground him. Karna told his therapist to go shove it in a painful manner. The therapist had only smiled wryly and asked him to tell him about his family. The session ended in him banging doors and storming out. Despite that, the therapist had cleared him for field duty, so perhaps the visits weren’t entirely useless. 

Karna snapped back to the present. “It isn’t difficult to work hard when you have a strong reason to,” he said, his unfocused eyes seeing something beyond the room.

Draupadi took a deep breath. “We all have things that keep us running. Sometimes we run from them, sometimes towards.”

“I wonder if I ran fast enough, Draupadi,” he croaked. “I wonder if I’ll ever stop.” She hummed noncommittally and put her head on his shoulder. A dam broke within him at the simple gesture, so perfectly timed, and he took three deep, shuddering breaths and the tightness in his chest dissipated finally. He laid his head on top of hers. The position was awkward, but he didn’t care.

Neither of them said anything for a long time. Sometimes words weren’t necessary, sometimes this was just enough. 

Eventually, after ten, fifteen, however many minutes, Draupadi stood up and gathered the bedding he had thrown, and pulled him onto it with her. Karna instinctively curled into a foetal position, and Draupadi wrapped herself along his back. He felt her lips graze the side of his neck, raising goosebumps. 

“Sleep now. We have a long day ahead of us.”

And they slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Our Tumblrs: [sairandhri](http://nirantar.tumblr.com/) || [phandomoftheowl](http://phandomoftheowl.tumblr.com/)


End file.
